


Tales of Tactics and Depravity: Lux’s Edition

by LuxrayOnAO3



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: F/M, Incest, Multi, Parent/Child Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:00:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25938538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuxrayOnAO3/pseuds/LuxrayOnAO3
Summary: What's stranger than finding two co-tacticians in a field?What's stranger than finding their twin children in a ruin?Well, this, probably.
Relationships: Marc | Morgan & My Unit | Reflet | Robin
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28
Collections: Fire Emblem Lewd Writers: A Tale of Tactics and Depravity





	Tales of Tactics and Depravity: Lux’s Edition

“There are better places to take a nap than on the ground, you know, you two,” Lissa had chided, so long ago.

The two of them had blinked into consciousness, blonde princess poking them in an unendingly curious way. Clad in the same clothes, same shock of white hair, same incessant levity in their voice; the two of them were clearly joined. Chrom had sighed. Frederick had nearly blown a gasket as his liege lord asked the newcomers their names, only to find out they were both the same.

Both of them remembered staring into each other’s oh-so-similar eyes, and finding zero recognition there. Silence had filled the open fields as these two near-facsimiles tried to get the read on each other. Same purple coat, similar look; the two of them had obviously been a pair, and given they’d been found arm-in-arm lying in a field on the path of the illustrious Shepherds -- nothing about this situation had been normal.

“I am Robin,” the man had eventually conceded. “I think so, at least.”

The woman had raised an eyebrow, mirror. “So am I!”

The duo had remembered the distinct facepalm that Chrom had made, completely unrelated to Frederick’s assertion they were spies, or worse, assassins. It was odd, to grin whilst a foreign lord’s retainer called you a traitor; neither of them cared.

The leader of the Shepherds had tried to mediate; insisting that both of them could not be called the same. Neither of them were interested, sitting in the grass, giving Frederick death-glares.

“I’m Robin,” the man had suggested, conviction in his voice, after some minutes of stare-off. He’d pointed to his partner-in-field. “She’s Robyn. With a Y. That’ll suffice.”

The girl next to him bit his lip, and then nodded, bright, her twintails dancing. “That works.”

Chrom could only shake his head as the two figures continued to scope each other out. Eventually, he’d spoken.

“Would you accompany us to Southtown?”

* * *

Over the course of two years and as many wars, the pair had excelled as part of the Shepherds. Chrom had been happy to take them for what they seemed -- two people exceptional in tactical insight and so skilled at battlefield strategy that it made his life easier. For that alone he’d been grateful.

His pair of Robins, each subtly different in their own way, commanded the battlefield. And what a pair they were! He, a master of gambits, ambushing, and the unorthodox; she, a wyvern-made-flesh that commanded frontlines like she was a creature of legend itself, magical barrages thrown from the front that drove enemies before the Shepherds of Ylisse like sheep fleeing a wolf.

It was apt, Chrom had supposed.

Whether during the day or long into the night, that latter frequently, the two would plan incessantly, their lantern-light the flickering beacon that betrayed camp. Chrom didn’t care. He’d seen the power of each of them. Any approaching ambush stood precisely zero chance. 

What he didn’t know was the depth of the scheming his tacticians employed under that lamplight.

Battle tactics, formations of battalions, invasion plans: those were simple, and dispensed with in mere minutes between the pair of them. What kept his tacticians up late at night were the harder machinations of the Shepherds.

“Ricken absolutely cannot marry Cherche,” Robin had muttered. “The boy is an idiot.”

Robyn bristled. “Cherche would become much more flexible if she had magical support!”

“I cannot-- Ricken is a child. Pair him with Nowi, for Naga’s sake.”

“As if Nowi needs the support of a mage--”

These discussions took weeks, far longer than the tactical plans they’d conjured in their sleeping thoughts. Members of the Shepherds found the tactician duo’s instructions pairing them up in battle, and soon enough, it would pay fruit.

The children of the future past started to trickle in; Vaike and Lissa, Owain showing up a few days later -- Tharja and Lon’qu, a day later Noire came to camp -- slowly; the tacticians had been pleased to see the efficacy of their pairings, even if so many had sad stories. 

It’d encouraged them to fight harder. 

* * *

“I am not marrying  _ Chrom’s daughter _ ,” Robin had argued.

“Lucina is a sweet girl,” Robyn had laughed. “She is earnest, but sad. You’d make her happy with your lame jokes.”

“I categorically do not want to,” he’d huffed. Robyn had been taken aback.

“And why is that? Surely after all we’ve been through with Chrom -- you cannot be scared of his  _ disapproval, _ ” Robyn had frowned.

His cheeks had slushed with blood as his disapproval grew. “For Naga’s sake -- no!”

Robyn bit her lip, her idea speared by his rebuttal.

“I, I just thought--”

Robin’s fists had balled, the man taking an effort to unclench them, looking at his partner, whose eyes had widened.

He looked at Robyn and his gaze softened.

“I…” he began, hesitant. “Robyn, it would work. But… the only person I want to be paired with is you,” he’d whispered.

In the end, the only good pairing for the tacticians was each other.

It was weird, the first time. Making love to an almost mirror-image of yourself came with its difficulties and awkwardness, under sheets. The first time the tacticians had embraced each other in the dark of night, clad by canvas, it’d been a fumbling mess.

But also, it’d been fucking _hot._

It turned out that making love to your spitting image was  _ sexy _ . The two of them found they intimately knew each other’s wants, needs and bodies even before they were spoken, and their hands slipped around each other to the immense, night-long satisfaction of each other.

Once they’d taken the jump, the two of them hadn’t been able to keep their hands off each other; something that didn’t go unnoticed at tactical meetings. Blushed faces, held hands -- the rest of the Shepherds had rather quickly discerned the change in status quo, Cordelia’s face lighting up in a wicked grin seeing their two white-haired partners had finally conceded their feelings.

The children of the future past had been trickling in, slowly; the tacticians had been pleased to see the efficacy of them, even if so many had sad stories. It’d encouraged them to fight harder. 

A few days later, a pair of children were found in the Ruins of Time, a Feroxian ruin long abandoned.

Two children, a purple-haired duo; both called Morgan and with memories of a different parent, but memories distinctly of each other, too, which suggested that there was a common future. After a few simple questions, Robin and Robyn had established that they were i) likely their parents: ii) now responsible for two hungry teenagers, and iii) utterly overwhelmed. 

Robin, at this point exasperated from years of being similarly named to his own partner, had insisted. Sullenly, and somewhat bullied by his sister, the slightly younger boy had taken a name he’d found in one of the old stories he’d read: Marc.

It kind of suited him better.

Looking at the boy had made Robyn swell with a weird sense of pride.

They’d discussed what to do, laying together late at night the next day. It was odd, how their hair colour didn’t match the tacticians’, but the Plegian coats they wore were identical to their old ones. (The two of them had upgraded to their grandmaster’s regalia, now.)

Adapting to parenthood had been difficult. More than a few of the shepherds, already besotted with their future children, had no end of amusement as the legendary tactical duo struggled with feelings like “responsibility” and “parental empathy”. Though that couldn’t be helped when your daughter was more mischievous than Lissa and more scatterbrained than Vaike. The boy was quick, sharp and too earnest. He wore his heart on his sleeve. It was endearing.

* * *

It had been a rollercoaster past few months, a bizarre whirlwind of new family and emotions that had just about at this point been reconciled by all parties, falling into a sense of familiar rhythm that was just about sustainable.

Of course, when Robin had found his kids in the Ruins of Time, he didn’t quite expect them to be fucking each other.

Perhaps it was a grim irony given the almost incestuous nature of his own relationship. Marc, that sweet and earnest boy, the one who would do anything for his parent’s praise and worked harder for that than anyone Robin had ever met, turned out to be insatiably attracted to his sister.

His wife had found them, one night, on guard duty; small noises coming from a tent nearby, barely perceptible to human ears. Robyn had peeked into the tent to find her daughter, naked as day, riding her son’s dick in the throes of absolute bliss.

When she told her husband that night, riding him in the same way as she told him how she’d fingered herself watching their children make love together, both of them came harder than they’d ever done in their entire lives.

After that, the next move had been inevitable.

Marc and Morgan had spluttered at first, when they’d told them. Marc, that sweet and earnest boy, had a shade of crimson on his face neither of the tacticians had ever encountered before; and Morgan, that boisterous girl, had just listened to being caught with a sly grin and distinctly more composure.

“It’s just always been that way,” she’d said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Perhaps to Morgan and Marc, that was so.

Marc had stared at the floor. “Why are you telling us… It’s, it’s not like we can stop…”

Morgan’s look at him had been thunderous, as if the very idea was an existential threat to the material fabric of the universe.

Robyn coughed, as if the expulsion of a noncommittal noise from her throat would excuse the outrageous words it’d form next.

“Your dad and I want to watch.”

Marc had flushed an even  _ deeper _ crimson after that. His mother was impressed. It was a colour impossible.

Morgan’s eyes had twinkled, a whisper in Marc’s ear causing his eyes to land on his mother. Indistinct, whispered phrases escaped her lips, and when Marc looked back at his mother, Robyn shivered; she recognised it. It was the look in her husband’s eyes at night.

Afterwards, when Morgan had given the same look to her dad, it was already too late for all of them.

* * *

Tharja had smirked when Marc had sought her out for a soundproofing hex, a day later.

“Fufufu,” she’d smiled, like a venomous viper. “Fucking your sister again, are you? I don’t blame you if you don’t want to get caught.”

Marc began to blanch.

Tharja laughed. “No use denying it, child. Don’t worry. It’s not common knowledge. I just take excellent care to keep tabs on the goings-on in my dear Robins’ lives. Do you think I’d dress like this if I wasn’t aware of the effect women have on men?”

Marc stammered. “Uh, uh, uhm--”

The Plegian sorceress took on a wry look. “I’m glad Robin’s children are happy with each other. From some of the stuff Noire has told me, not all of you children had such a happy life together in the future. So, I’ll help you. Just make sure you don’t knock her up.”

Marc nodded quickly, collecting his thoughts. “We’re careful in that way. Always have been, after the first time.”

Tharja grinned. Wolfishly. “Let me show you the incantation, then…”

* * *

So it was that the four of them were in the two tactician’s chambers; the bedroom was ready for all four of them together, out of sight and out of mind in the Robins’ private quarters in the far corner of Ylisstol’s castle. Duties had been dispensed; the grandmasters had made very sure that Chrom would have no cause to seek them out; and they’d quickly excused themselves after dinner as inconspicuously as could be done.

Marc was nervous, his sweaty palms taking a few goes to get the hex he’d learned from Tharja up. The first time he’d miscast it -- and nobody could hear each other for a few seconds, until he externalised the magic and fumbled it around the room.

Morgan locked the door through much more mundane means. The bolt slid home with a satisfying click; good. Now the four of them could fuck in peace.

“Thank you for joining us, tonight,” Robin said, an icebreaker. “Like your mom said the other night… we want to watch you with each other.” He looked at his wife; the need was in her eyes, too. “Really badly.”

Marc made his way to the bed, Morgan immediately jumping onto it after him, mattress springs cascading at her sudden weight as her plump thighs landed on it. Robin shot his daughter an honest smile, slight, but honest. “Just let us know if it gets uncomfortable, okay? And… don’t hold back. Your mother--”

Robyn snorted. “As if you don’t want to watch our kids fuck as bad as I do.”

Robin blushed after that, the words too accurate.

“Will do, Dad,” Morgan flashed her father a grin, before sinking her lips directly into her brother’s.

As the siblings began to make out Robyn released a soft moan, and her husband moved behind her slowly, the white expanse of the bedclothes before them covered with a falling purple pair wrapping their arms around each other.

Morgan took the lead as she usually did, the boy under her acquiescing as she slipped her eager tongue into his mouth, the familiar hot taste of his wrapping around hers wetly. Soft smacking sounds filled the chamber as the siblings began to sloppily make out, and their parents watched avidly.

Robin began to softly touch his wife’s neck, his lips at her nape, hands slipping down over her shoulders. She began to shiver, eyes fixed on her children.

“You said you touched yourself to this before, Robyn,” he murmured.

“Yes,” Robyn breathed. 

“How about I touch you this time instead whilst you watch?”

Robyn quickly nodded, and her husband began to slip off her coat, hands finding her underclothes as he peeled off the first layers of her clothing. “Please,” she breathed.

Morgan and Marc had not done anything quite so romantic; the twinned siblings were pulling clothes off in a practiced frenzy, coats, shirts and shoes flying in a tsunami of cloth off the bed, until a naked Morgan had her equally naked brother pinned under her.

She looked directly at her father and grinned. “Like what you see, Dad?”

Robin’s eyes went wide as he admired her form. His daughter was beautiful, like her mother. Soft, pale skin, a bountiful pair of softer breasts at her chest and hips just as wide, paired with a cheerful,  _ knowing _ grin on her face. Robin swallowed; Morgan was  _ hot _ . He felt himself begin to strain against his wife’s equally soft rear, her pantied, plump cheeks welcoming his erection.

“Thought so,” Morgan grinned, seeing her father’s reaction. She leaned down to Marc, the boy grinding eagerly against her under him. “I’m really ready for you, Marc,” she murmured to his ear. “Won’t you make me feel good?”

“I’ve needed this all day,” Marc groaned, into her ear. “Please Morgan, I want you so badly…”

Robyn, now as naked as her daughter, let out a suppressed breath as Robin slipped his hand over her pubic mound, his hand squeezing her breast gently as she watched her daughter take her son’s cock.

Marc, in that regard, was big. As her daughter lined herself up with his eager erection, Robyn licked her lips, Robin’s finger timing a motion inside her to match up with the penetration she was watching. As both Robin and Marc bottomed themselves out inside their respective partner, both of them groaned appreciatively, flanked by each other on the bed.

“Yes, Morgan, Marc,  _ Naga above _ , you two look so sexy when you make it,” Robyn cried, their first gentle movements with each other aped by her husband’s skilled fingers with every thrust. “Please don’t hold-- nnf--- hold back for my sake--”

Morgan pulled away from Marc’s kiss, her eyes bright as she stared at Robyn, her hips moving on Marc’s cock bringing a deep flush to her face and chest. “Wouldn’t dream of it, mom,” she grinned, turning her attention back to her brother, who quickly ran his hands around her back as they continued to make out.

“Your fingers feel so good, Robin,” Robyn murmured, the heat in her very amenable to his motions. “I’m going to come so quickly already, aah-”

“Whenever you want,” Robin murmured, his lips still at her neck, his fingers inside her, hand wrapped around her breast adding another kind of sultry warmth to her body. “Be as loud as you want. Marc’s taken care of the soundproofing. I’m sure you want to show Marc and Morgan how good they’re making you feel right now.”

Robyn’s composure was rapidly disappearing, and as her husband whispered more teasing words into her ear she felt the familiar ache building in her. The sight of her two eager children making out with each other as Morgan rode her brother’s cock was driving her wild, and Robin’s skilled motions on her clit were bringing her closer and closer to the edge.

“Marc, Morgan, you together are so hot, watching you is going to make me come so hard,” Robyn moaned, biting her lip as another wave of pleasure emanated through her. “I’m, I’m getting there Robin, make me come watching them, please--”

Marc moaned into his sister’s mouth, Robyn’s words driving his own need, and his thrusts up into Morgan’s soft body took on a new need. Morgan squealed in delight as worked up, he now rolled her over, hips slapping against her prone form as he chased his own building climax.

“Naga, sis, this is hot,” he moaned, hand pushing into her sweat-damp hair as they made out messily, the slapping sound of their meeting sex becoming more frequent and hurried. “I’m close, too, and hearing mom feeling so good… nnf, Morgan, you always make me feel so good like this.”

“Don’t stop,” Morgan panted, between sloppy kisses, “don’t stop now, Marc, I’m yours, make me come too, aaah--”

Marc’s hips moved relentlessly inside her, the warmth and hardness exuded by his cock never failing to drive Morgan wild. He was so big, so perfectly shaped for her, so good to feel inside her pussy, so good at making her wild for him. Morgan’s hands clutched at his back, her short nails digging into his skin, the wet wrestling of their tongues unceasing even as they became short of breath and felt their climax building. It was an unspoken rule that they always kissed as they came for each other; they both knew it made their finishes better.

Morgan was mewling mutely into her brother’s mouth, but Robyn had no such restraint, Robin’s lips still so damnably hot at her neck, his hand squeezing her breast, his fingers deep inside her as he rubbed her clit with a thumb. Robyn was shrieking now, loud cries and exhortations of pleasure as her husband so skilfully got her own, the taboo and sin of watching her own children fuck in front of her driving her towards the most powerful orgasm of her life. The happy, flushed look on Morgan and Marc’s faces paired with the intimacy they were showing was doing things to her brain she’d never have expected to countenance, and as they visibly neared their own end, Robyn was going to let go.

“Robin, I’m, I’m going to-- yes, aaaah, Gods-- Morgan-- Marc--”

Robin clamped his mouth to her ear. “Shout and let them know how good you feel.”

The names of her lovers left Robyn’s mouth in a tumbling pitched yell, and as Robin felt her wet, hot insides tightening around his fingers he pushed his other hand down to rub her clit through the peak. Robyn growled as the breath left her, and she peaked around her husband’s hands, eyes never leaving her children. Adrenaline and her orgasm ran through her as she climaxed, and climaxed hard; Robin felt her shaking in his arms as the pleasure rushed through every facet of her, her skin itself lighting ablaze in tingles that would last beyond the peak, as every nerve in her body was overstimulated by the eroticism on show. 

Staccato, desperate noises came out of Robyn’s mouth as she quaked through it, wetness squirting forth to dampen her husband’s so-skilled hands, her thighs and hips falling still only after the longest orgasm of her life, and she panted desperately as Robin pulled his hands slowly out of her.

Robin’s wife was a drooling, panting mess, and her cries of orgasm had done nothing to stint their children’s congress; Morgan was now groaning into her brother’s mouth as he hammered his hips into her, the wetness and warmth of her coaxing insides driving him closer and closer. Their parents watched as they continued to kiss messily, their own end close.

“You made your mom come so hard,” Robin teased, a delighted smile on his face. “Don’t hold back for each other. Your mom and I want you to feel so good, too…”

Marc let out a stifled groan at that, the exhortation enough to tip him over, too, and as Morgan continued to suck at his hot tongue he let go utterly inside her. Morgan squealed into his mouth as the powerful strands of hot cum flooded into her, the sensation always welcome, always hot, and her mind blanked as her body, too, began to quake with the throes of orgasm.

The two siblings had done this for years, and after prolific practice, it had turned out they were really good at coming together. Marc always came first, the love for his sister too much to bear, the physical expression of that love too much to hold back from. The sensation of being filled with her brother’s thick seed always got Morgan off, immediately after. Like their parents, a subconscious coordination filled their lovemaking, and it was to the mutual pleasure of both parties. The stifled groans as Marc shot everything he had inside Morgan were always so hot, and as she came around his dick, so hard and expressive for her, her orgasm was amazing.

In short order, three sweaty and shaking people filled the bed, Robin giving them a moment as he began lazily peeling off his own clothes, happy to have been watching.

“Ah, ha, haa, that was amazing, Marc,” Morgan panted, skin sheened with sweat, the catenary strands of saliva from their meeting tongues snapping as she tried to form words. 

“Yeah, sis, that was so, so good, ah,” he panted back, form limp over hers, her soft, pillowy breasts pressing into his chest warmly under him. “You always make me come so hard,” Marc whispered, breathless. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way…”

Robyn made her way over to her children on shaky knees, swooping down to kiss Morgan on the cheek. “That was wonderful, Morgan, Marc,” she murmured. “It was so good watching you both.” She leaned up, mussing Marc’s sweaty hair, sitting back on her haunches, eyes trained on a newly-naked Robin, hard at the waist, his own cock straining for release.

“Your dad is too proud to say it, but he really wants to get off,” Robyn murmured. “Do you want to, Morgan, or shall I? He’s so hard. And I think it’s for you.”

Morgan looked at her mother with eyes wide, mouth agape at the suggestion. “I- I, uh--”

Robyn smiled indulgently at the exhausted girl. “I think he wants you more than you realise.”

Morgan shivered under her brother, and she turned to him, kissing him gently.

“I know our bond is special… but… do you mind…”

Marc’s earnest smile pierced her heart.

“Go for it, Morgan,” he whispered. “I think Robyn -- mom -- needs me, too.”

“Wow,” Morgan whimpered, “okay, mom, I don’t know how, though--”

Robyn rubbed her back gently with affection. “Your father doesn’t bite. Go kiss him.” She looked at Marc, face turned up from his sister, staring at her with an unspoken need, too. “As for you, my young tactician. Given your hard work in our recent studies… I think you need a treat.” She leaned down, whispering. “And I really need your cock inside my mouth.”

Marc groaned as he pulled out of his sister wetly, his mother taking him in her arms as the two post-coital began a slow, gentle renewal of the same urge. Marc moaned as Robyn encouraged his tongue into her mouth, a more gentle and loving caress from hers than Morgan usually gave him. “Such a good boy,” Robyn crooned, her son in her arms, his gasp tasting of Morgan. “I love you so much, baby. Can you make your mommy feel as good as you make your sister? She  _ needs _ you to let her taste you.”

Her son shivered in need as they looked into each other’s eyes, his need and want rapidly building as she teased him, the desire in her look unfalsifiable.

“Gods, mom, Morgan is the only person I’ve ever been with, but right now the way you are looking at me makes me feel so warm. Are, are you sure--”

Robyn silenced him with another kiss. “Yes, baby. Come make your mommy happy.”

Marc nodded, quickly, his cock already stirring again. “I will,” he promised.

Morgan, meanwhile, had clambered over to Robin, and was currently kissing him whilst she stroked his cock. Her dad was so similar to Marc -- similar size, slightly thicker, but as she stroked a thumb over his end her fingers were rewarded with a flood of precum, the anticipation in him spilling out wetly over her hand.

“You are beautiful, Morgan,” Robin confessed, between kisses. “So much. Your hand feels so good--”

“Marc came inside me so much,” Morgan grinned. “Can you make me feel like that too, dad? I want you to fill me up so much, too~”

Robin groaned, her hand unceasing at his dick, the wet sound of her motions filling the air. “Yeah,” he gasped, his tongue running over her breasts now, the large, soft mounds of flesh rapidly getting coated by his kisses. Morgan gasped as he took her nipple into his mouth, the strong sucking sensation already building something between her legs.

“Gods, dad, you know just what to do with me,” she sighed, arms around his neck. “That feels so good-- don’t stop--”

“I won’t,” he mumbled, mouth finding another avenue of attack at her breasts.

Robyn had jumped on Marc, now cleaning her son up eagerly; the mess of his union with Morgan still testament to that feeling, Robyn was now running her tongue up his cock with abandon, taking him into her mouth eagerly, the taste of him salty and strong and  _ so like Robin. _

“Such a big dick,” Robyn cooed as he came out of her lips with a loud  _ pop _ , “so hard for your mommy. Don’t hold back, Marc; I can do this until you let go for me.”

Marc groaned as his mother licked everything from his length, her tongue so skilled and experienced he was clutching the bedsheets not to spend himself early. “Mom, I need, this feels so good but I don’t want to come too quick--”

“Why not?” His mother’s sultry eyes looked at his, her deep brown irises boring into his need. “You can come in my mouth. I know you want to; I can feel you straining. We can go again straight after, can’t we?”

Her son groaned as he grabbed her white hair, now filled with a need, pushing more forcefully her mouth onto his dick. The sensation was incredible, the wet, searching way she probed his cock building his climax quickly; the way the tip of him scraped the back of her throat, she swallowing him so eagerly and thoroughly; the sheer  _ taboo _ of this whole thing, even above what he had with Morgan, he was going to--

It was immoral, it was inexcusable, but as he let out a cry and Robyn swallowed every part of the load that Marc had to give to her, there was a sole thought in his mind.

_ I need to do THAT again. _

Robin, meanwhile, was groaning under the ministrations of his daughter, years of secret practice finally unleashed on her father. Morgan was whimpering as he continued to assail her soft, huge breasts with his mouth, until a mutual need pushed her to tug him down, fingers urging his cock inside her. Robin entered his daughter with a needy growl, her insides slick and wet, the strange sensation of Marc’s cum inside her clashing with his need, encouraging him harder.

“You are so naughty, Morgan, taking both of us like this,” he urged, “you feel hot and tight and you’re full of Marc and I love you for it.”

Morgan clutched desperately at her father’s neck as the man made love to her with a need and ferocity she wasn’t familiar with, the strange sensations inside her driving him to fill her up as quickly as possible, the anticipation leaving Robin with little room for mercy. His cock stretched her in an unfamiliar but no less welcome way, the motions of his hips just as pleasurable as anything she was used to.

“Please, dad, come inside me too, I want both my boys inside me as soon as possible,” she whispered, head already lolling under his powerful frame and actions. “Ah, ha, haa, it’s so good--”

“Louder,” Robin urged, “we have the room, tell me how good it really feels.”

“IT FEELS SO GOOD!” Morgan yelled in a hoarse, heightened roar, her father’s dick deep inside her, bottoming out now with every thrust, Robin’s dick coated in the sinful mixture of Morgan and Marc and himself, so close to adding himself to the mix. “Dad, aah, yes, more, please! Fuck me, aaah, fuck me so hard--”

Robyn had Marc in her arms now, the two of them watching the other two at it, Robyn’s hand lazily stirring her son’s cock back into life after two powerful finishes; he lay on her ample chest, sweaty hair damp against her skin as they watched Robin and Morgan make love together.

“Fill her up, dad,” Marc said, his mother’s hand stroking his cock, his own eyes entranced by the sight of Morgan, squirming under Robin’s actions. “Don’t hold back.”

Robin groaned, deep inside Morgan, the cavalcade of sensations a landslide at his mind’s state as he concentrated solely on how amazing his daughter made him feel. Morgan squirmed under him, their arms around each other in a frenzied hug.

“Kiss me dad,” Morgan gasped. “Marc and I always do, it makes, aaah, it makes it better--”

Robin was a generous man. He clamped his eager lips on Morgan’s, and the two of them began to make out messily.

Marc was hard in his mother’s hand as the two of them kissed, Robyn murmuring words into his ear.

“Do you want to come again watching them? Or do you want to save yourself for me?”

Marc was tossing side-to-side, her so-soft hand on his cock so infuriatingly good, his length utterly covered with her spit and his desperately leaking precum, his member slick between her fingers as she stroked him gently, each of their eyes never leaving their fellow lovers.

“Mom, I need you, Robyn, I need to be in you, after Morgan,” he whimpered, in her hand. “I’m so desperate for you--”

Robyn giggled into his ear. “Even after I swallowed what you came with?”

Marc shivered. “Especially after… Gods, mom, as if that would lessen it--”

He felt the tension in his cock building yet again as his dad and his sister fucked in front of them on the bedsheet, his mother’s eyes behind him unblinking, both of them taking every detail in.

“Mmmgn,” Robin muffled through his daughter’s naughtily wrapping tongue, “mm so closh--”

Morgan, true to form, did not let up. Her hands pressed into her dad’s shoulders, her thighs wrapped around his, eager cries of muffled pleasure asking him to make her come, and come hard.

Robin was deep inside his daughter; a factor that ascribed to his speed of climax. As he made love with Morgan, an energetic, busty girl that had her hands around his back and was currently pressing her large, soft breasts into his chest--

He mumbled into her mouth, her tongue eagerly searching every recess of his.

“Mor- Morga- Morgaah-- I’m coming, now, for you--”

It was muffled, but sufficient; Morgan, her heavy, soft weight atop him began to quake, her hips slamming home on her father’s cock as he got to his peak, the throes of his climax imminent--

Morgan said nothing; she pushed her tongue down her father’s throat, their wet embrace more than enough to make her come, too.

The male tactician erupted inside his daughter with a stifled shout, and as his hot semen flooded her insides she came equally, again, his hands on her hips, his cum so  _ deep  _ inside her, so quick and so strong--

“Dffd,” she cried, into her father’s mouth, the meaning clear. “Mmm---”

The two of them rocked together as they rode out another climax, this sinful union hard to deny in such pleasure.

Paired, sweaty, damp, Morgan pulled her tongue out of her father’s mouth, and grinned. 

“Was that good, Dad?”

Robin’s reply was belaboured by exhaustion, the breath fleeting his lungs as his body recovered, anticipation having made his climax even stronger than anyone else’s.

“Yeah,” he eventually managed, “Naga above…”

His wife grinned from the other side of the bed. “Your son is so hard, Robin,” she cooed. “How about we let Marc take Morgan again whilst I lick the remnants of both of my boys out of my daughter?”

* * *

Tharja fell back, the ground around her littered with sex toys, a plug up her ass and her tongue lolling as she came yet again at the view in her scrying orb.

Deep, desperate pants filled her room as she recovered, dismissing the distant spell that had given her an eye on her favourite tacticians as her hands found the scrying table, bracing against it as she gasped desperately post-orgasm.

The Plegian mage struggled for thought, one foremost; she wondered what Noire was doing. And if she’d consent to a particular experiment tomorrow.

Tharja knew she would.

**Author's Note:**

> Day 2 of Morgan-Morgan-Robin-Robin week!
> 
> Good fun to write. Join our madness here: https://discord.gg/2FHFgHS
> 
> Thanks for reading and hope you enjoyed!


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